The fluorescence of UV-reactive minerals unearthed from the collections became the subject matter of Eigenlicht. Moti has talked of the rocks appearing to communicate with us and his film furthers this impression by imbuing each rock with distinct characteristics.

A flamboyantly glowing blue and pink rock whirls around for the camera, enabling it to register every minutia. Neon green and orange light emanates from a rock which reveals itself at a defiantly slow pace, moving in and out of focus before overwhelming the screen and enveloping the viewer.

The medium of 35mm film demands commitment and patience in itself, being far less convenient than digital to shoot and present. Moti never exhibits his work on loop, instead stipulating a schedule of screenings which requires his expectant audience to wait together in the darkness.

This tradition highlights the incongruent location of the installation. Many of the museum’s playful young visitors scamper in, greatly enthused by the glowing artefacts, but on the whole are less captivated by the languidly unfolding film.

With each mineral examined at such close quarters, scale is disoriented and the miniscule crevices and protrusions dissolve into imaginary landscapes of gaping chasms, caves dripping with stalactites, or galaxies in outer space.

Eigen translates as inherent; particular; of one’s own. It may be a collective viewing experience, but the absence of information liberates individual interpretation.

However, the lingering final shot of a luminescent blue mineral is universally beautiful: a glittering galactic swirl which transcends language.